


No More Ghosts

by naasad



Series: I'll Be Good [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Flashpoint (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Romani!Dick, difficult conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: While the others bury the body, Dick tries to get Tim to open up.





	No More Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> @angel_gidget asked for Tim and Dick, and (eventually) I delivered

"We should make a blanket fort," Dick said, staring gleefully at the pile of mattresses, pillows, and blankets that they'd unearthed. He glanced over at his little brother, trying to get him out of his head.

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Or we could not do that." He sat on the nearest mattress and pulled out his computer.

"Oh, come on." Dick flopped back on the pile. "You can't tell me that little you wouldn't love that if he decided to come back up here."

Tim snorted. "Actually, he'd probably have a panic attack, wondering how much trouble he'd be in when his parents got home."

"How are you not more upset about this?"

Tim shrugged. "I learned how to repress feelings of abandonment at an early age," he joked, "comes in handy in our line of work." He glanced up at Dick's expression. "This world isn't ours, Dick, it's just data. Jason's a priest, Damian doesn't exist, we don't know what happened to Cass, you're a Talon, and I'm dead."

"We never ran into Talons," Dick said.

"No Bruce," Tim pointed out. "No one standing between the Court and the newly orphaned Gray Son of Gotham."

Dick nodded in concession, then shook his head. "Wait, but you knew what had happened before we even opened that door. Were you - in our world - were you ever afraid?"

Tim's typing slowed. "Yeah," he said eventually. "Yeah, fine, I was. I wanted to be loved and my parents didn't love me."

Dick flinched at the cold tone.

"If you want to know the truth, I'm not upset at all about what's downstairs, I always knew somewhere out in the multiverse that was an option. But I am terrified that little me isn't the only ghost hanging around here. I am terrified that I'll have to come face to face with a version of my parents that actually killed me. I can repress rage, abandonment, feeling like a failure. I can't repress wanting the approval of the people who made my life hell." He took a deep breath, hot tears streaming down his face. "I can't stop loving them, even though they sure as hell never loved me."

Dick reached over and tugged his brother close, holding him as tight as possible. "I love you," he said. "It's not the same, maybe it's not enough, but I'll always love you, little brother, mo čavka." He pressed a kiss to his hair.

Tim shook and wept, clutching Dick's shirt.

After a long while, his cries tapered off into soft gasps and he pulled away, wiping his eyes and reaching for the escape of his computer.

Dick smoothed his hair down and kissed the top of his head before letting him go. "I hope there's no other ghosts, too."

"Boo!"

They both jumped and Tim yelped and threw a batarang at Jason's face.

Jason dodged and laughed. "Oh my god, your faces."

"We were having a moment." Dick pouted.

Jason shrugged. "And I lightened it up." He ruffled Tim's hair in apology, then immediately turned more somber. "I need a blanket or something to wrap him in."

Tim stood and started rifling through the piles before pulling out a worn, ratty quilt that most likely used to be red. He brought it to his nose and inhaled the leftover scent that wasn't dust and dirt, and handed it to Jason. "This one."

Jason stared at it a moment, then nodded and left.

Dick moved to wrap his arms around Tim again, but his brother shook his head and hunched in on himself, curling around his keyboard.

Dick nodded to himself and set about the room, making things comfortable for the others' return.

**Author's Note:**

> mo čavka means 'my bird' - the closest I could get to 'my robin' which was Dick's mom's nickname for him
> 
> I used [this translator](http://romani.uni-graz.at/romlex/) I found and Kosovo Arli dialect, because that's what's used in Northern Greece, and I like to write Dick as Arlije, or Romani from Greece. If I got it wrong, and you're fluent, let me know, please.


End file.
